Always After Quidditch
by WishIWasJKR
Summary: Ginny is readying herself for her first match for the Holyhead Harpies, with special someones in the stands supporting her... well, in Ron's case, supporting her opposition. Another Quidditch oneshot. HPGW HGRW light BillFleur


**Disclaimer:** I neither own Harry Potter nor was I the one who invented Quidditch. Joanne Rowline is responsible for that. I merely make bad imitations of her greatness.

* * *

Her heart thumping fast under the golden talon on her brand new Holyhead Harpies Quidditch Robes, eighteen-year-old Ginny Weasley, fresh out of Hogwarts, paced the dressing room while six other soon-to-be-dark-green-robes-clad women changed. Her position as Chaser was nowhere near as hard as Seeker, but she was definitely nervous: it was, after all, her first match for the Holyhead Harpies.

"You right, Ginny?" asked Cassidy Mitchell, the captain and Seeker of the team.

"Yeah, just nervous," said Ginny.

"It was lucky we found you though," said Grace Andrews, one of the Chasers. "We were going to start letting in guys if no one good came to tryouts."

"Not that there's anything wrong with them," piped up Sharay Winters, another Chaser, "but they'd break tradition."

"And drool over Evanna," added Ginny.

Evanna Smith smiled at them as she pulled on her Keeper's gloves. She was a Veela, and used to travel with the Bulgarian team to their matches, before deciding she'd try Quidditch herself and sign on to the Holyhead Harpies, a much publicised move. Among Ginny's worries was that, after the match, Harry would run onto the field and kiss Evanna instead of her.

Pushing the thought out of her mind, Ginny threw a Quaffle from one hand to the other. Cassandra Jones and Tracey Flynn were hitting imaginary Bludgers with their Beater's bats, having finished changing. They looked so graceful, but Ginny knew, from the bruise on her arm, that they could be quite fierce with their hits.

A whistle sounded from the pitch, and the seven Harpies players got their gear ready and marched out of the changing room.

* * *

Harry was sitting in the stands of Wales' Quidditch pitch, hidden from Muggles in a forest in south Anglesey. On his left were Ron, and then Hermione. On Harry's other side were Bill, Fleur Charlie, Percy and George, clad in dark green, just like Harry. Ron, who refused to support the Holyhead Harpies just because his sister was in the team, was wearing orange in support of the Chudley Cannons and snogging Hermione, who was wearing purple for neutrality. 

The first Quidditch game of the season was always exciting, though even more so this time around for the Weasleys. It was almost certain that the Harpies would win as their opposition, the Cannons, hadn't ranked nearly as high as the Harpies the previous season. Ron, however, wouldn't hear a word of this, and remained a Cannons supporter. It had been with a lot of persistence that Hermione had stopped him from betting them to win this match.

"But Hermione!" Ron had whined, as if he was back in school again. "The odds are three hundred and forty to one!"

"That's because they're bound to lose Ron," said Hermione irately.

"But, 'Mione, if they win, think about how much we can earn!"

"Ron," said Hermione sharply, "if you waste our hard-earned cash on bets for the Cannons, then I swear you'll have to sleep on the couch!"

That had been the end of the argument. Hermione and Ron had married in the summer. They were only nineteen, but no one doubted the marriage would be successful.

A whistle blew and soon the two teams were emerging from their respective changing rooms. George threw some of his Cockroach Clusters at Ron and Hermione to stop the couple from snogging and they all turned towards the pitch. Ginny's head of red hair could be seen amongst her team-mates as they made their way to the middle of the pitch.

After a minute, ten women and four men rose into the air and began playing Quidditch.

"And they're off!"

Lee Jordan's voice carried throughout the stands.

"Mitchell, Winters, Andrews, Weasley, Smith," (his voice became slightly dreamy, before returning to its normal state) "Jones and Flynn for the Holyhead Harpies, opposed by Lyons, Murdoch, Wright, Travers, Inivas, Fletcher and Pyuce of the Chudley Cannons."

Charlie and George's gaze followed Evanna Smith as she took her position at the goals. The brothers' mouths were open and their eyes were glazed over.

"Sharay Winters starts with the Quaffle, throws it to Grace Andrews, passed back to Winters, and, oh, possession lost to Captain Grace Lyons. Lyons passes to Lisbeth Murdoch, Murdoch flies towards the goal and - a well aimed Bludger hit from Cassandra Jones. Weasley in possession, dodges Bludgers from Ian Fletcher and Chris Pyuce. She heads towards the goal. Will Tom Travis save it? Ginny is an extremely good Chaser and – yes! She's put it through! Ten nil to the Harpies."

Harry whooped and Fleur jumped up happily, distracting several men in the crowd.

"Of course, Miss Weasley is currently rumoured to be dating the conqueror of Lord Voldemort himself, Harry Potter."

Harry groaned. Why couldn't Lee keep the commentary on Quidditch? Ginny, who had been in possession of the Quaffle once again, dropped it in her anger and it was caught below by Emily Wright.

"Woops! Wright passes to Murdoch, Murdoch advances, Murdoch to Lyons, Lyons tries for goal and – saved!"

Evanna threw the Quaffle to Ginny, who sped off with it to the other end of the pitch and put it past Travis.

Ten minutes later, the score was ninety to ten to the Harpies. Ron was nearly crying into Hermione's shoulder. The other Weasley boys, Harry and Fleur were sitting forward in their seats and watching Ginny (or Evanna).

"And I think Mitchell's seen the Snitch!"

Harry spotted it too, fluttering just above Ginny's head. Ginny ducked down, allowing a clear path for Cassidy. Mark Inivas was soon following her. The Snitch went towards the ground and Cassidy and Mark dived steeply, Cassidy just in front. The Snitch then zoomed up to the goalposts, where Evanna was. Ginny, Grace Andrews and Sharay exchanged smiles.

As Cassidy and Mark weaved through the goalposts level with Evanna, Mark was distracted. He stared at Evanna's head of blonde hair for a second, before shaking his head and heading after Cassidy once more.

Cassidy was gaining on the Snitch, Mark beside her, but just. She leaned forward on her broom and her fingers wrapped around the fluttering golden ball. Mark grabbed her wrist. The two of them exchanged glances and blushed.

Harry, Hermione, Fleur and the Weasley boys (minus Ron) had leapt onto their feet as soon as Cassidy Mitchell's fingers were around the Snitch, screaming in delight. Harry ran passed Hermione and Ron and down the stairs. Ginny had touched down on the ground, beaming, and was looking in his direction.

Harry had reached the first row of seats and swung himself over the advertising boards as they changed from a _Witch Weekly_ to a _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ advert. Ginny met him halfway between where she had landed and the border of the pitch.

"Congratulations," said Harry, snaking his arms around her waist as hers found their way around his neck.

"Will you help me celebrate tonight?" asked Ginny.

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"I couldn't possibly let down my second favourite Quidditch player," said Harry.

"Second favourite?" Ginny mocked hurt. "You mean there's someone else?"

"Me, of course," said Harry, flicking his head back

"Oh, Harry."

Ginny leaned up and kissed him.

"Then, we'll make sure top two are satisfied tonight," she said.

Harry placed a chaste kiss on Ginny's lips, realizing the silence of the crowd.

"I'll see you later," he said, and made his way back up to his seat.

"Blimey Harry," said Charlie. "Always after Quidditch, hey?"

Harry nodded, smiling.

"Always after Quidditch."


End file.
